


Who and What

by LeMera (Agha)



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 06:34:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2378408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agha/pseuds/LeMera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had been tracking her for months, so when she shows up in Q branch forcing information out of his quartermaster, Bond is more than a little angry to discover that she and Q have a history. Bond does not expect what follows, especially not from Q, who goes against all the things Bond thought to know about him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who and What

**Author's Note:**

> First fic in this fandom, so sorry if the characters are a bit OOC. I hope you enjoy your reading. Unbeta'd, so sorry about spelling mistakes.
> 
> ABANDONED

The girl loomed over Q, her head slightly tilted as she scrutinized him with her dark eyes. She still had her gun in her hand, but it was pointed to the floor and she seemed in no rush to use it.

   “Q was it?” she said with a smirk.

   Bond attempted to move his fingers, but whatever it was they had put into him made him unable to move. He didn’t even know what he’d do even if he had full control of his body; there were five of them in the room, and there must’ve been more making sure no one entered the Q-branch while they were doing their job.

   Bond knew this woman. Of course he knew her; he’d been hunting her for three months before M had finally decided that it was pointless, as catching her had showed up to be about as possible as catching a ghost. She was a mercenary, known not for her ability to kill or protect, but for her ability to obtain whatever it was the person who hired her needed. He’d seen the results of her knife-work, and he knew that if he didn’t get up soon she would destroy Q. Whether she killed him or not, he would be gone by the time she was done with him.

   “What’s the code, Q?” she cooed, leaning closer to him. Bond had to admit that up close she looked much younger than he’d anticipated. She appeared to be around Q’s age, maybe a year or so older. Her long, brown hair fell into her eyes and Q reached out to push it back from her face almost automatically. That was…odd. Q knew who this woman was just as much as Bond did, yet he didn’t look particularly frightened. He looked determined, which Bon was assuming was because Q didn’t want to appear weak, but he was also beginning to suspect there was more to it.

   Despite the fact that it’d been more than five minutes since the woman had gotten to Q, she had yet to take her knifes out. Of course, Bond had seen her get her work done without torture before. He had met a politician who’d claimed she’d gotten information out of him by simply staring and seemingly reading his mind.

   “What’s the code Q?” she repeated. “No, wait,” she added quickly and covered Q’s mouth, despite him not having made a move to talk. “Don’t tell me.” There was a mischievous glint in her eyes.

   “Hurry up would you,” one of the other mercenaries said. _He_ was a goon who had only been hired for killing.

   “Shut up,” she snapped back, her eyes never leaving Q’s. “You’re the only one in the world who knows this password. You can’t have allowed it to be something easy though, it’s too dangerous. You’re too smart to be too obvious. No names of loved ones, no birthdays.” There was a movement in Q’s face that only someone trained in years of watching facial movements, such as Bond had, could register. Apparently, so had she. “ _Oh_ ,” she cooed. “No birthdays, but maybe a date?” Q seemed to have learned his lesson because his face remained blank. “If you were to die someone in the agency would have to know how to access the file, so I’m assuming you’ve left a clue somewhere.”

   “You never told us we needed to find a clue!” the goon exclaimed angrily. Bond had almost regained full function in his hands.

   “I don’t need any clues, all I need is right here.” She kept staring into Q’s eyes, her hand still firm over his lips. “A date. Not obvious enough for just anyone to guess, it would have to be something only a small amount of people could possibly guess. And that’s not it; that would be too easy.” She was so close to Q their eyelashes were almost touching.

   When he was sure no one was looking his way, Bond moved his head slightly to the side. His eyes caught 003’s, and she nodded at him carefully, her own fingers twitching.

   “I’ve got it,” the woman suddenly exclaimed. She let Q go and went over to the good, pushing him aside to write in the code. The red screen turned green and she smirked triumphantly. “Hello Tahiti.”

   Now that he’d regained motion over his hands and head, it was only a matter of time before he got it over the rest of the body. It seemed that whatever they’d been giving the agents to make them more resilient to being knocked out by drugs was actually working.

   “Let’s go,” the woman said once they got everything they needed.

   One of the goons walked past Bond and made a show of attempting to kick him in the head. Bond’s hand shot out, still a little slowed down by the drug but fast enough to prevent the impact, and he pulled the man down, managing to wrestle his weapon out of his clutches. Not far away he could hear 003 following his example.

   For the next few seconds he was on autopilot, shooting and tackling people down without much thought. In the end, he and 003 were both standing with their guns pointed at the woman, her hands in the air and her face taking on a mask of complete innocence.

   “I’m unarmed,” she said, her voice calm and unconcerned. She didn’t sound like someone who was just about to get shot by two of the best assassins in the world. “I’m not resisting arrest or anything.” She smiled cheekily and 003 approached her warily.

   Like promised, the woman didn’t resist getting cuffed, and she continued to smile when M’s people finally managed to regain control over the office and get word down that it was all-clear. The whole ordeal made Bond uncomfortable; it had been too easy for his taste, and by the look of it 003 thought the same.

**

The woman stared at him and he started back. It had been six hours since the break-in. The office was mostly cleaned up by now, the dead bodies disposed off. Q was back in his office, appearing slightly shook up but otherwise fine.

   The woman hadn’t said a word since they got her into the interrogation room. She just stared. Sometimes she smiled as if she knew something the others didn’t. Bond wasn’t sure if it was because she really _did_ know something the others didn’t, or if she was just trying to mess with their minds.

   Two more hours of silence, and Bond would get the clearance to break every bone in her body until she spoke. He was really looking forward to it. Although he suspected 003 wanted it even more than he did.

   Years of search and resources, and finally they had the woman where they wanted her. And it was making Bond more nervous than he’d like to admit.

   He could understand the plan being faulty. He could understand her being promised large amounts of money for a job, and her following her orders, and for her orders to show up to be faulty and for her employer to show up to be an idiot. Ops go wrong, sometimes you trust the wrong people, it happens. But for her to allow herself to be captured without a chance of escaping? That didn’t make sense. Either she was slipping, or she had a plan.

   Eventually 003 entered and he was allowed a short break from the staring contest. He went outside, rolling his shoulders after the two hours of sitting completely still.

   Sighing, he made it over to Q branch. Both 003 and 007 had vouched for Q right after the floor was declared safe. They’d both seen the things this woman could do, and it wasn’t the first time she’d been accused for being a “mind reader”. Q had done nothing to aid her, and was therefore not arrested or punished.

   However, Bond knew that there had been something. Some sort of familiarity between Q and this woman that extended over mission parameters, and he was determined to figure out what.

   Q was sitting in front of his computer, staring intently on the screen without really looking.

   “Q?” Bond asked carefully and the boy jumped before staring up at him with wide eyes. _Jeesh._

   “007,” Q responded calmly once he’d regained his composure. “How can I help you?”

   Bond glanced around, noting the people running around and the cameras surely positioned to watch them.

   “Let’s take a walk.”

   Q didn’t protest when he took his arm and steered him into the elevator. They stood silently until they arrived in the basement lever, and Bond steered him to a spot that was free of cameras. Only Q knew of the spot, and he’d let it slip to Bond once when he’d gotten into detail about how he’d like to dismember and hide 007’s body when he’d returned with a very expensive gun in very small pieces.

   Bond carefully pushed him against the wall and made sure to catch his eyes. “Talk to me,” he said, trying to go for friendly but stern. Q swallowed but didn’t respond. Bond felt for grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. _We’ve wanted her for years_ , he wanted to shout. _Years. And not once did you say that you knew her_. He was angry, but not suspicious. Q wouldn’t betray his country. Bond wasn’t sure of many things, but this he was sure of. “Talk to me,” he repeated, this time a bit harsher.

   “Are you going to torture her?” Q’s voice was weak and there was a slight shake to it.

   “No, not yet.”

   He closed his eyes. He looked more than scared, he looked terrified. Whatever it was he knew about this girl must shake him to the core, and now that he no longer had to put on a brave face in front of her he looked as if he wanted to bundle up on the ground and hide. It was times like these that Bond really remembered just how young his quartermaster was.

   “Q,” Bond said, forcing his voice to go soft. “How do you know this woman?”

   Q shook his head, opening his eyes again. “No.”

   “You can trust us. We’ll keep you safe.”

   “No,” he repeated, but Bond wasn’t sure what part he was denying. “I can’t…” He closed his eyes. “I can’t.”

   _All these years and not a word. I should report you to M._ Bond leaned forward and Q leaned slightly backwards, his eyes widening. Reporting Q to M now wouldn’t work; he needed to get something out of Q and he needed it fast.

   Bond wasn’t blind. He’d seen the way Q’s eyes would linger, the way his pupils would blow slightly every time Bond showed up in front of him in an immaculate suit or with a split lip, his eyes following his tongue as he licked the blood off, before going on a half-hearted rant about how much equipment cost and how much of a pain Bond was. He knew, and he’d been tempted to act on it more than once. But Q had been forbidden. Too young, too new, too innocent. And it was clear that he wasn’t going to be satisfied with a quick fuck; this was a kid who wanted more, and Bond didn’t have anything more to offer.

   However, this was a desperate time, and Bond was known to use everything and anything to his advantage.

   He slowly reached out and cupped Q’s cheek. “Q,” he said softly. “You can trust _me_. I’ll keep you safe.”

   Q’s eyes widened even more and when Bond leaned closer his eyes went to his lips automatically. He still looked scared, but there was something else in there as well. Something close to determination.

   “I’ve met her before. Before MI6. She knows things about my past. That’s why she was able to figure out my password.”

   “And?” he prompted, stroking his cheek carefully and putting the other hand on his hip. Inside, he was fuming. He’d shown no signs of knowing the woman when he’d helped Bond on his mission to find her, and Bond wondered if Q’d been able to prevent the mission’s failure but held back. Above that, Q had known that he was a liability when it came to this woman, and still he hadn’t said anything. Bond was feeling less and less bad for exploiting his feelings by the minute.

   “I know…I can tell you something. Something that you can tell her that might make her say… _something_.” He swallowed again, hard, and Bond pushed his chin up slightly so that their lips were in level with each other. “I don’t know if it will work, but if it does I might be able to help some more. If it doesn’t, I’m sorry, but that’s all.”

   “Tell me what to say?” He wanted to growl, but instead simply leaned so close their lips were almost touching.

   “Tell her…” Q was breathless, wetting his lips in anticipation. “Tell her that you know about San Francisco and that Dessie sends his regards. She knows who I’m talking about.”

   Bond barely allowed for their lips to press together before pulling back. “I should get back to her then.”

   Q nodded and smiled weakly. “Good luck.

**

“San Francisco.”

   The woman straightened in her chair slightly, her cuffs clinking together, but she said nothing. Still, it was the first sign of progress so far and only years of training kept Bond from smiling widely.

   “I know about San Francisco.”

   For the first time in over six hours of interrogation the woman opened her mouth. “As if,” she snorted. “What did you do? Pull up a map with the cities I’ve been to and play dart?” Despite still acting casual, a small amount of tension had made it into her posture.

   Bond clenched his jaw not to grin, and went in for the killing blow. “Dessie sends his regards.”

   The effect was immediate: eyes widened and her back turned straight, and all signs of a smile disappeared from her face. “You’re bluffing.”

   “Do I look like I’m bluffing?” He _was_ bluffing, but that didn’t mean he looked like it.

   “You’re bluffing,” she repeated, more to herself than him. “You _are_. There is no way…” Her eyes sharpened. “He wouldn’t.” Bond wasn’t sure who this ‘he’ was; Dessie or Q, but she was obviously shaken up and that was exactly what he needed.

   He leaned onto the desk. “Now you understand why answering our questions would be in your best interest.” At least so he hoped. He had no idea what he’d told her, and what affect it had, but he kept pushing. “Who hired you?” It wasn’t the question he wanted to start with, but M had been adamant to find whoever was able to get into MI6, even though the op had eventually failed. Once that threat was eliminated, Bond would have free reigns to clear up several things about the last couple of years.

   “I don’t snitch,” the woman said and leaned back. “Not for _that_. I know that you’re bluffing.” She didn’t sound as sure as her words were though.

   “And if I could prove that I wasn’t?”

   She went stiff. The lack of a knowing smirk made her look a bit vulnerable, and it reminded Bond of how young she must be.

   _Stop_ , he told himself. She was a woman, no matter how young she appeared, and she was a dangerous one on top of it.

  But when he thought about it, he remembered how far back her record dated, and she can’t have been too old when she first got into the business.

   _Stop_ , he told himself again and stood up.

   M was standing outside the room, but he didn’t question Bond or the source of his information. This was one of those moments where they both knew that the less M knew at the time, the better. M knew Bond well enough to know that everything would be clear in the end.

   This time when he entered Q stood up right away and walked ahead of him to the elevator. His shoulders appeared to be painfully tense and his eyes were set forward, determined but not scared anymore.

   He led Bond to the blind spot, and to the agent’s surprise he pushed him up against the wall and kissed him. The kiss was hungry, close to desperate, and a bit sloppy, and Bond’s hand went to Q’s neck to steady it. He allowed the kiss to go on, slowing it slightly to make it more comfortable and less sloppy. Q’s hands dug into his sides and he was breathing harshly, pressing their bodies close.

   He had to stop it. He should stop it. Even if it wasn’t for the guilt over deceiving Q in such a way churning in his stomach, he knew he should stop because of all the reasons he’d never attempted something with Q in the past. Having sex in a place where there was a possibility of people walking past them wasn’t really his thing anyway, yet he found that he pulled Q closer, burying his hand in his soft curls and doing nothing to discourage him from continuing to kiss.

   Eventually Q was the one to pull back, his glasses slightly askew and his lips red and swollen. Bond didn’t whine at the loss, but it was close. They stood for a while and panted at each other. Q settled his hand on Bond’s chest, and then slowly pulled his hand down until it was just above his belt. Bond felt his cock twitch in response.

   “Tell her you know about the fourth of May, nineteen-ninety-nine, in that order” Q said breathlessly, pulling away completely. He straightened his glasses and shirt, and turned to leave.

   Bond was unable to move after him, making a show of straightening his suit while mentally trying to force his erection away. He thought about the woman waiting for him, of all the things she had done, and that thankfully did the trick.

   They rode back up in silence, but just as they were about to get on their floor he put a hand on Bond’s wrist.

   “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he said, his voice low. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

   Before Bond had the chance to respond the elevator doors opened and Q left in a hurry.

   He made it back to the interrogation room. 003 was standing outside.

   “M says I can’t start pulling her fingernails until you finish whatever it is you’re trying to do,” she said regretfully. “I hope you fail.”

   “It feels good to know I have your complete confidence 003.”

   003’s lips twitched and he went inside.

   He sat down in front of the woman. She was still stiff, and her eyes watched him cautiously.

   “You here to tell me Dessie’s right outside? Because I won’t fall for that,” she warned him.

   “I’m here to tell you that I know about San Francisco, and that I know about the fourth of May, nineteen-ninety-nine.”

   “The fourth of…” She frowned for a second, then something seemed to occur to her because she made a move to throw herself over the table onto Bond. He had foolishly leaned forward over the table and she caught hold of the nape of his shirt before the cuffs strained and pulled her back.

   She huffed in pain and curled around her arms, where the cuffs had most likely broken her skin. Her hair had moved forward, obscuring her face from her view. Bond leaned back slightly, but it didn’t seem necessary at this point.

   “Fine,” she said from behind her hair. “I’ll tell you.” She made a fast movement with her head and whipped the hair out of her face. “How about I tell you about San Francisco?” Bond was suddenly on edge. Something was off. “You see, in San Francisco there was a house.” Her face had changed. It was almost as she was beginning to smile again. “That house had a pool.” Now she was definitely smirking. “I went into that pool, and I held my breath under the water for more than four minutes.”

   She laid her hands on the table. In her palm, there was a metal paperclip, and the cuffs were gone. She smirked at him, and then stood up and ran.

   Bond tried to run after him, but found that his body wasn’t listening to his command. His vision was getting blurry and he realized that there was something in the air, something he shouldn’t be breathing, but it was too late.

   The woman turned the doorknob and made it out of the room. That should be impossible. She didn’t know the code. She couldn’t…

   _The fourth of May nineteen-ninety-nine._

4-5-1-9-9-9.

   _I’m an idiot_ , he thought, and stopped trying to fight the darkness taking over his mind. Whatever it was Q had let out, it was much stronger than what the woman and the goons had used, because before Bond knew it, he was out.


End file.
